


Pick me up and piece me together

by NeverHadThePlot



Series: Pick me up and piece me together [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse, Aftercare, Blow Jobs, Dom Phil Coulson, Dom/sub, Hurt/Comfort, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Sub Clint Barton, Subdrop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 15:08:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14979773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverHadThePlot/pseuds/NeverHadThePlot
Summary: Clint is put with an incompetent handler who blames him for a mission going fubar. Clint endures punishment for the two day are stuck in the safe house and no one notices his slide into subdrop. Clint is practically catatonic by the time he reaches medical. In desperation the doctor calls for the Dom that Barton was most likely to trust. Fury sends Coulson, but will Phil be able to do anything to help?





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers or Phil and Clint

“What is going on here?” Coulson demanded from the doorway. There were several Dom’s stood in the room. One crouched by the bed reaching beneath it, a choked off crying sound was wailing from under the bed. Doctor Evans was stood in the middle of the room screaming over the din, “let him go, agent.”

The whole room froze as Coulson stepped through the door. He took stock of the situation, the harassed look on the Doctors face and concluded that the patient was under the bed. “Everybody out.” He ordered in a tone that brooked no argument. The Dom’s all filed out, glaring at the man still reaching beneath the bed. “You too Price.” The agent turned sharply ready to argue, but swallowed his words at the cold glare of Fury’s right hand man. He scrambled to his feet and left the room. Phil turned to the Doctor, “What’s going on Evans?”

She let out a shaky breath, “Patient, Agent Clint Barton, experiencing severe sub drop. I don’t know if he has any other injuries. His handler dumped him in here and left. When I tried to examine him he scrambled under the bed, he’s been there for the past six hours. No one can get him out.”

Phil nodded carefully, “And I am here, because?”

“I don’t know what else to do, Sir,” the doctor said, exasperated, “He won’t respond to any other Doms, he doesn’t have one of his own. I called the Director and asked him to send the Dom in this building that Clint would trust the most- I’m assuming he sent you?”

“Yes, though why he thinks Barton trusts me I don’t know.” Phil frowned a little, staring at the bed where the sniffling was coming from.

“Well, do you think you could try to get him out? If he stays under there much longer he’s going to be catatonic, not to mention dehydrated and whatever other injuries he might have.” The Doctor crossed her arms.

“I’ll give it a go. He got his hearing aids in?”

Her expression cleared, “How do you even know he needs them?”

Coulson’s lips twitched, “I recruited him.”

She nodded, “Oh yes, I remember, you’re the one who shot him.” Her tone was full of disapproval but Coulson shrugged. He did what he had to do. “And no, he didn’t have them on when he came in, the handler left them there.” She pointed at the bedside table.

Coulson nodded and moved to crouch by the bed. He caught sight of the agent cowering beneath the bed and his heart gave a tight squeeze. Carefully Phil reached beneath the bed and tapped on Barton’s hand to catch his attention. The sub flinched and stared up at him with wide, liquid eyes. Phil pulled his hands back so he could sign, ‘Hey Clint, I’m Agent Phil Coulson, do you remember me?’ the sub stared at the agent who’d recruited him and nodded slowly. Phil did his best to exude calm, and smiled gently. ‘Are you hurt?’ the sub nodded again. ‘Will you come out so Doctor Evans can take a look at you?’ Clint shook his head. ‘Okay Clint, that’s fine, we can stay under here for a while. Are you thirsty?’

‘Yes Sir.’ Phil smiled then reached up for the cup of water on the bedside table. He held it out to the sub so that he would have to scoot a little closer to reach for it. Clint eyed the cup warily, but scooted forward a little to take the cup from the Dom’s hands. He drank greedily and Phil couldn’t blame him, given how long he’d hidden beneath the bed.

‘Good Boy.’ Clint frowned at him, ‘Would it be okay if I touched you, Clint?’ The sub hesitated but eventually nodded and Phil rested a hand on his knee, gently rubbing circles with his thumb. The sub slowly relaxed and scooted even closer as Phil handed him another cup of water. ‘Do you think we could come out from beneath the bed now Clint?’ Phil asked after twenty minutes of quiet. The kid bit his lip, but nodded so Phil slid out of the way and helped him to sit on the bed, taking a seat beside him so that their shoulders were touching. 

Doctor Evans smiled at them from where she stood watching in the middle of the room. “Do you think we could get him something to eat?”

She nodded, “Yeah, can you get him to let me check him over?”

“I’m working on it.” Phil agreed, she smiled and left to grab him some food. Coulson turned back to Clint, ‘So, tough mission?’ Clint flinched and Coulson winced, obviously the wrong question to ask. ‘Sorry, you don’t have to answer that.’ 

Clint gave him a week smile, ‘thank you, sir.’

‘You’re welcome. How would you feel about me wrapping my arm around you, Clint?’ 

Clint’s eyes widened again, ‘I think that would be okay Sir.’

Phil smiled and pulled Clint against him gently, after a few moments the sub rested his head against his shoulder and relaxed. He rubbed the subs arm gently. “You’re okay Clint, you’re okay.” Phil whispered, knowing Clint couldn’t hear him, but hoping the vibrations of his chest would soothe the sub regardless.

Evans breezed back into the room with a tray loaded with toast and a fruit salad and handed it over to Coulson. Phil pulled his arm back and loaded a spoon with fruit, then held it out for Clint to take. The sub didn’t bother reaching for the spoon, just leaned forward to take it into his mouth. Phil reloaded the spoon as Clint chewed. They continued in this manner until all of the fruit was gone, Phil then held out a slice of toast for him to take a bite of. Clint hummed happily as he finished chewing the last piece and Coulson slid his arm back around his shoulders. 

The doctor watched the whole exchange with a pleased smile, “You’re very good with him, Agent Coulson.”

Phil glanced up, “He just needed someone to speak to him in a language he could understand. I expect the others were yelling at him in an attempt to make him hear them?”

Evans grimaced, “Amongst other things. They tried their best, but I don’t think someone as deep in sub drop as Clint is at the moment would respond to anyone he didn’t know.”

“In that case, I don’t understand why he’s responding to me, I haven’t seen him since the day I recruited him. And yes, you’re right, I did shoot him.”

“Maybe it’s because you know sign language?” She suggested.

“Perhaps.” He agreed, then turned back to the sub, ‘Clint, you said you were hurt. Can you tell me where?’

He bit his lip again, ‘My back, sir.’

‘Will you let Doctor Evans take a look?’ He began hyperventilating. ‘Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re okay, she won’t touch you if you don’t want her to. She just needs to see if you need any stitches.’

His eyes were watering as he signed, ‘Stay.’ Then clutched at Phil’s jacket.

‘I will. I’m not going anywhere.’ He relaxed again and nodded for the doctor to approach.

“Can you get him to remove his shirt?” She requested, pulling on some latex gloves.

‘Take your shirt off please, Clint.’ Clint grimaced as he did so and Phil heard the doctor gasp. Phil whipped his head round to look at her, “What?”

“It looks like he’s been lashed with a belt.” She gently touched Clint’s back and he winced, his hands clenching into fists.

“What the hell happened on that mission?” Phil demanded, watching as she began cleaning the cuts.

She sighed, “I have no idea. I tried to get his handler to explain, but he just said the mission went FUBAR.” 

Phil nodded, “I’ll get the mission reports.”

“This is going to need stitches.” Phil stroked a soothing hand down Clint’s arm to keep him calm as Evans stitched him up. When Evans had smoothed bandages over the stitches she allowed Clint to pull on a clean shirt. The sub immediately wrapped his arms around Phil, his earlier weariness vanishing as he buried his face in the crook of his neck. Startled   
Coulson took a few moments to wrap his arms around the sub to pull him closer.

“What’s the prognosis then, Doctor Evans?” 

“I’m terribly sorry to inconvenience you Agent Coulson, but you seem to be the only Dom in this building Barton will respond to, he’s spent the last six hours hiding under the bed.   
I’m afraid in this condition I cannot allow him to go home on his own.”

Coulson frowned, glancing down at the clingy sub in his lap. “What, exactly, are you trying to say Doctor Evans?”

The doctor sighed, “It would be in Clint’s best interest if you were to take him home with you sir. At least until he levels out again and can work on finding himself a dom. I don’t believe he has one, at least there’s no record listed in his file.”

Coulson sighed, running a careful hand down Barton’s back. The younger agent purred, there really was no other word for it, and tried to wriggle closer. “I really don’t have time for this doctor, I-”

“Look, I know how busy you are Coulson, trust me, I know. But Barton is the most troubled sub I have ever met, and I used to work for the STS,” at Coulson’s confused glance she added, “Saving Troubled Subs. For some reason he has latched onto you.” Coulson frowned again. “Look, just let him kneel at your feet while you fill out your paperwork, pet him like you have been doing. If you keep his hearing aids out you won’t even have to worry about him listening into phone calls.”

“Okay, okay.” Coulson moved to get up and Clint whined, his eyes growing huge, his bottom lip quivering. He drew in on himself, hugging his knees to his chest as he watched   
Coulson stand and straighten his clothing. Phil felt his heart break a little at the helpless expression. He smiled reassuringly at the young agent and ran a hand through his hair.   
Clint’s eyes fluttered shut as he leaned into the touch. “Get me the release forms doc. And his medical files.”

“Yes sir.” Evans agreed immediately, relieved.

Phil removed his hand from Barton’s hair so he could sign to him. ‘You’re coming with me.’ Clint’s face brightened instantly and he leapt to his feet, shoving his hearing aid case into his pocket. He waited patiently for Phil to sign the forms the doctor handed over, his hands twitching like he wanted to reach out, until he huffed and shoved his fists in his pockets too. Phil smiled and placed a hand on the small of Clint’s back, pleased when he seemed to relax again.

“Be careful with him Coulson, I honestly don’t think he’s been down since he came here, and we literally have no information about any of his previous Dom’s in his medical files. I have a feeling they weren’t exactly caring.”

“No, I don’t believe they were.” Coulson agreed.

She scratched the back of her neck as she watched Clint, concern colouring her voice, “I’ve never seen the kid so quiet.” Phil nodded, he hadn’t either. It was a little disconcerting, a silent Barton.

“I’ll look after him.” He told the doc earnestly, then turned to Clint and signed, ‘you coming?’ at Clint’s enthusiastic nod he smiled and signed ‘good boy.’ A flicker of confusion flashed across his face so fast Phil almost thought he’d imagined it. Regardless he turned and led the way to his office, Clint on his heel.

Unlocking the door he ushered Barton inside then went to sit at his desk. Barton stood with his lip between his teeth, glancing anxiously at Phil and away. Coulson sighed, “What the hell has the world done to you Clint?” he asked himself before signing, ‘you can lie on the couch, or kneel by my feet, your choice.’

Clint immediately blushed, glancing between his options. Phil watched in surprise as he hesitantly, but gracefully, sank to his knees and crawled to the other side of the desk, resting his forehead against Phil’s thigh. He took a deep breath and seemed to melt there. Smiling Phil pulled the file he had been working on before the trip to medical back towards himself and threaded a hand into Clint’s hair, stroking absently as he went back to work.

An hour or so passed in relative calm as Phil worked his way through the backlog of paperwork and Clint went boneless against his leg. It was peaceful, Phil found this was the happiest he’d ever been stuck in this office with too much paperwork. The peace was disturbed by a knock at the door, “you wanted to see me sir?” Clint’s handler stepped inside.  
Clint looked up at the sudden intrusion and immediately went rigid. “Barton.” Agent Jenkins growled. The junior agent scrambled back, eyes wide as he hit the wall, his legs continued to flail though there was nowhere else for him to go. “Sorry sir, is he bothering you, I can take him back to medical where he was order-”

“Not at all Agent, Agent Barton is where he was requested to be. Do you have your mission reports?”

“Oh-Um- yes sir, all but Barton’s, he was unable to complete his before we took him to medical.” Jenkins floundered as he handed the documents over.

“Thank you. Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I would like to know why exactly Agent Barton is suffering from the most severe case of sub drop a doctor from the STS has ever seen?”

Jenkins squared his jaw, “He screwed the op up sir. He refused to maintain radio silence, moved from his nest despite direct orders to stay put and took out the mark without my authorisation. I had to punish him when we returned to the safe house.” Punishment for any sub in the organisation without a Dom fell to their handlers. Phil’s eyes narrowed imperceptibly, he was hyper aware of the cowering sub behind him.

“The punishment?”

“Corner time sir.” Phil nodded, though he was certain there was more to the story given Barton’s visceral reaction.

“Very well, go back to your duties Agent.” Jenkins nodded and fled. Coulson would ask Clint about it when he levelled out, he was a little uncommunicative in subspace. When the door clicked shut Phil swivelled his chair to look at the sub. He had relaxed minutely once his handler had gone.

Phil got to his feet then walked to the couch, ‘come here.’ The agent bit his lip, but crawled over obediently, sitting back on his knees again as he waited for further instructions. 

‘Up here Clint.’ The sub frowned, but climbed onto the couch nevertheless, letting Phil pull him against his chest. Phil hadn’t had a sub since he’d joined SHIELD but all his instincts were now screaming at him to wrap this vulnerable boy in his arms to shield him from the world. Phil cursed Jenkins silently as he cuddled Clint closely, tucking his head beneath his chin, murmuring nonsense he knew Clint couldn’t hear. He seemed to relax with the vibrations of speech against his cheek.

Clint drifted to sleep in Phil’s arms. He carefully extracted himself and covered the sub with an old blanket before heading to his desk and pulling Barton’s file towards himself.  
The damn thing read like a Greek tragedy. Abused by his Dom father. Moved into foster care after his parents died in a car crash. Abused by his foster father. Moved to an orphanage. Abused by the caretaker. Ran away to the circus with his brother. Abused by his mentors. Left for dead in an alley by his brother. Held forcibly down by a group of mercenary’s and forced to do their bidding. He’d accidentally stumbled into one of Coulson’s other ops when he was finally shot down and recruited.

Coulson glanced over at the sleeping kid. He was twenty three years old and it was only now, watching his face slack with sleep, that you’d ever have believed it. It was as though the years of weariness and abuse had slid away. A lump formed in Phil’s throat as he realised this sub has never had anyone care for him the way they were meant to. Everyone who should have ever cared for him has abused or abandoned him. What does it say about his psyche that a man who shot him in the leg the first time they met is the person he seems to trust the most in his life, even though they’ve barely seen each other in three months? 

He was brought out of his revere by another knock at the door. “Enter.”

“Coulson, hey, I was just wondering-” Sitwell entered the office already speaking, but cut off at the sight of Barton, “Why is Hawkeye asleep on your couch?”

Phil sighed, “Shut the door Jas.” He did, and plopped himself into the guest chair. “He’s got the worst case of sub drop I’ve ever seen Jas.”

“Wait- Barton is a sub? You’ve got to be kidding!” Phil could understand the shocked tone. According to his file and the rumour mill he doesn’t follow orders, he moves without authorisation, he walks round with his head held high. He meets even Fury’s gaze. “I bet he’d be willing to kick anyone’s ass who suggested he kneel for them.”

“I think he has good reasons for that,” Phil murmurs, glancing at the sleeping archer, “There aren’t many subs that work here Jas, only three that I know of are even field agents. I’ve read his files, he never misses his mark, he moves if it’s necessary and doesn’t ask permission because, after reading his mission reports, I’m pretty sure his handler is just trying to assert his dominance rather than listening to Barton’s expertise.”

“You sound like you got something against the guy Phil.”

“I think it’s his fault Barton is in sub drop. I don’t think it has anything to do with the op.” 

Jasper sat up a little straighter, “really, why?”

“Kid was terrified when Jenkins came in. Subs can’t hide or fake their emotions in a drop Jas. I asked the handler what happened, he said the op went FUBAR, that it was Barton’s fault,” Jasper scoffed, “Said he punished him with corner time, but no way in hell is this-” Phil pointed to Clint, “a reaction to corner time.”

“No,” Jasper agreed, narrowing his eyes, “Want me to launch the investigation? My workloads light today and it seems like you’ve got your hands full.”

“Thanks Jas.”

“No problem,” he smiled, climbing to his feet, “I was just headed to the mess, can I get you anything?”

“Finger food, for the kid. Couple of sandwiches or something.”

“Sure.” Sitwell agreed easily, “Back in a few.”

Phil went back to his files. After reading the last mission report he had decided, Barton was getting a new handler, regardless of the investigation. Jenkins had punished him for various misgivings after every assignment. Not a single one of which did Hawkeye miss a shot. In fact he had saved his teams skin on three different occasions, single handed, only to be punished for acting without orders and chatter on the coms. Clearly this handler didn’t know how to handle Barton.

Clint roused from his doze and immediately began panicking. His eyes darted around the room erratically until they caught sight of Phil rising from his chair and they locked with his. ‘Easy Hawk. You’re safe, we’re in my office, do you remember who I am?’

Clint visibly relaxed, ‘C-O-U-L-S-O-N.’

Phil nodded and signed back, ‘Good Boy.’

Once again he noticed a flash of confusion in the boy’s eyes and he started shaking his head, rapidly signing, ‘no, I’m bad, I’m a terrible sub. I’ll never amount to anything. I can’t even follow a simple order.’ Tears were forming in his eyes as Phil reached out to hold his hands in one of his. The boy’s eyes went wide. Coulson fished the hearing aids out of his pockets and offered them to Clint. He immediately slid them in.

“Clint.” He waited until the sub looked at him. “You are not a bad boy.” His jaw tightened and he looked away. Phil put his hand on the side of the kids face and pulled him round to look in his eyes. “You are not. I read the reports Clint, all of them, I could not find a single instance where you did anything wrong. Your behaviour has been exceptional Little Bird. Ever since I was called down to medical you have been such a good boy for me, doing everything I asked of you.” Barton leaned into the touch and sniffled, trying to control the water works. “Come here.” Phil pulled him into his arms again and held him through the tears, murmuring soft reassurances.

Jasper was tactile enough not to say anything about the clingy sub in Phil’s lap when he returned with lunch. He merely smiled a little indulgently and left, having placed their food on Phil’s desk.

Once Barton had calmed down a little Phil pulled away. “Now, you haven’t really eaten all day, are you hungry?”

“Yes sir.” Barton mumbled into his shoulder.

“Good. Now, would you like to eat yourself, or would you prefer to be handfed?”

Clint frowned and pulled back to look into Coulson’s face, “Is that not your decision Sir?”

“Of course not Clint. I’m here to give you what you need, not boss you around needlessly.”

“Oh.” Clint’s brow furrowed and he bit his lip.

“So which would you prefer?” Coulson prodded gently.

“I want- I mean, would you-” he flushed red, “No, I can do it.”

“Clint.” Phil reproached, “If you want to be handfed, I really don’t mind. I wouldn’t have given you the choice, if I did. I just want you to be comfortable.”

“I- Okay.” He took a deep breath, “Please, Sir, could you feed me?” Clint looked up at Phil through his eyelashes and Phil smiled fondly.

“Of course Little Bird.” Clint flushed at the nickname. Phil didn’t know when exactly he had started thinking of Clint with the nickname, but he liked it, and so did Clint, it would seem.

“Bring the food on the desk over to me, then kneel at my feet.”

“Yes Sir.” Barton did as he was told without hesitation.

“Good Boy.” He flushed again at the praise. It was quickly becoming one of Phil’s favourite expressions. He ran a hand through Clint’s hair, scratching lightly. He tilted his head into the contact, his eyelids fluttering shut. Phil could’ve stared at that content expression all day. But Clint’s stomach growled. So he pulled the wrapper off of the first sandwich and tor it into chewable chunks, then held out the first piece for Clint to take. He took it from Phil’s fingers gently, avoiding biting the digits and let out a contented hum as he began chewing. Phil smiled at him indulgently before taking a bite of his own sandwich. They continued in this vein until all of the food was gone. “Good Boy Clint.” At Clint’s tiny smile Phil decided he was going to make a habit of saying it, he had a feeling the sub hadn’t heard it nearly enough.

Phil stood and threw the containers away, only to turn and find Clint sat still in the perfect submissive position, not having moved an inch. “Clint, you can find a spot you’re comfy in, I’ve got a couple more hours of work to get through, you don’t have to stay there.” Clint turned and bit his lip, staring longingly at the spot he had been in that morning as Phil reclaimed his desk chair. Phil’s whole face softened. “Clint, if you are most comfortable over here, then come over here. Like I said, wherever you’re comfiest.”

Still a little hesitant he crawled over to Phil’s left side and placed his forehead against Phil’s thigh once again. Phil slid a hand into his hair and felt the tension drain from his body again. “Thank you, Sir.” He mumbled into Phil’s leg.

“Of course, Little Bird.” They lapsed back into silence as Phil went back to his paperwork.

As Phil was signing his final file Doctor Evans stuck her head around the door. “Good evening Doctor is everything alright.”

“Yes sir, I was just headed home, thought I’d check on Barton.” She looked relieved when she caught the sight of Clint, leaning back from Phil’s thigh and blinking blearily.

“Of course, come in Evans. I think he’s doing a lot better.” Clint nodded then looked at Phil and signed, ‘Can I speak Sir?’

Phil raised an eyebrow, wondering why Clint felt the need to ask, it wasn’t as if Coulson was really his Dom. But he nodded.

Clint smiled and turned to the doctor, “I feel a lot better, thank you doctor, Agent Coulson has been very good to me.”

Evans eyes widened a little, “I can see that Clint, I’m very glad.” Clint nodded, then, as if it was all he had to say on the matter, buried his head back into Phil’s thigh. Phil huffed an amused laugh. “Wow Coulson, I knew you were a badass agent, but I didn’t dream you’d be able to pull Barton out of that drop so quickly.”

“Me either.” He murmured. “Were not quite there just yet though, he’s still shy and sweet, not the loudmouth assassin we all know and tolerate.” He petted Clint’s hair so he’d know he was joking.

“No, but at the rate of progress you seem to be making, we’ll have him back in a day or two. Bring him by medical in the morning okay, just to check his bandages.”

“Of course, we’ll see you tomorrow.”

“It’s time to go home for us too Clint.” Phil said as the door clicked shut, and the sub stiffened against his leg. “Clint, what’s wrong?”

“Please Sir.” Clint glanced up, his eyes watering again as his breathing became panting, “don’t leave me. Please Sir, I’ll be good, I promise, please don’t leave me on my own.”

“Hey now,” Phil cupped Clint’s cheek, “I was going to bring you back to my home, is that okay Clint?”

Clint’s bottom lip stopped quivering, “Yes Sir, please Sir, please let me come with you.”

Phil chuckled, “Good, now then, we’ll need to stop by your quarters, then we’ll have to grab some food. I’m afraid I’m not much of a cook- how does take out sound?”

Clint scrambled to his feet, “Take out is fine with me Sir.”

“Good,” Phil grabbed his jacket and his brief case and headed out the door, locking it behind them. “I’ll let you choose, what do you feel like eating.”

Clint’s face fell a little, he began chewing on his lip, “P-please Sir, could you pick? Choices are difficult today.”

Phil threw him a considering glance, and decided it must be the sub drop, he’d heard Clint voice his opinions on food from three corridors away not two weeks ago. Phil just smiled at him, “How does pizza sound?”

Clint breathed a sigh of relief and gave a tentative smile back, “I like pizza Sir.”

“Good, pepperoni?” Clint nodded.

They had just reached the lobby when someone yelled, “Coulson!”

They turned to see Agent Smith jogging up to them, Clint stiffened and positioned himself slightly behind Phil. “What can I do for you Smith?”

“He, he’s not in trouble, is he?” Smith indicated Clint, “It wasn’t his fault, I-” 

Phil held up a finger, then turned to Clint, “Clint, go wait by the door please, I’ll be with you in a moment.” Phil’s stomach twisted as he watched Clint draw in on himself, ducking his head as he mumbled “Yes, Sir,” and walked away. 

Once he was sure Clint was out of earshot he turned back to Smith. “What the hell happened out there Smith?”

She blew out a breath, “We’d all be dead if Barton hadn’t been there Sir. It was a set up the whole time, Barton told Jenkins so before we even entered the building, but he just told the kid to shut up, that he didn’t know what he was talking about. We went in anyway and it was chaos- Barton moved positions so he could follow the team more clearly, Jenkins screaming in his ear the whole time to get back to position, kid took out seventeen of the twenty goons single handed, saved my life, and half the teams. But when we got back the safe house, having successfully collected the information we were sent to retrieve, Jenkins dragged Barton to the corner, made him strip, bastard even took his hearing aids and left him kneeling there for hours. He hit him every time he twitched. I’ve never seen a sub treated so awfully Coulson, I tried to step up, so did a few of the others, but he locked us out of the room, told us it was none of our business. Please Coulson, the only thing Clint is guilty of is saving the teams lives, if it were up to Jenkins he’d be the only one still alive. Don’t punish Clint anymore.”

There was steel in Coulson’s eyes that hardened as he listened, his fists were clenched by his sides. He forced himself to let out the breath he was holding. “I’m not punishing Clint, Smith, he’s in sub drop- worst case I’ve ever seen- I’m taking him home, he needs a Dom to look after him.”

Smith blinked, surprise written in every feature, “Wow, Sir. Okay.”

Coulson quirked his lips, he knew what the younger agents called him- the Ice Man, devoid of feeling as was the reputation he’d cultivated over the years. “He has no one else.” He explained, and she nodded, younger agents also knew Coulson looked out for his own. “I want a report on this Smith, on my desk tomorrow; I’m launching an investigation into Jenkins.”

“Yes sir,” she gave a solute, then nodded to Barton, “Good luck with him Sir, even if he is in sub drop, I hear he’s a handful.”

“I believe I can manage Agent.” He quirked his lips again, then walked over to Clint, gently touching his arm to catch his attention, “Ready to go Clint?”

“Yes Sir,” Clint bit his lip and followed Phil to his car.

Clint was as quiet it the car as he was during the day. He kept reaching up to fiddle with his hearing aids, then glancing at Coulson and dropping his hands to his lap. “If they’re bothering you Clint, you can take them out, I don’t mind speaking to you in sign language.”

Clint bit his lip, “A-are you sure Sir?”

“I told you earlier, Little Bird, it’s a Dom’s job to give the Sub in their care what they need. If you need to take your hearing aids out, then do it. I’m as fluent in ASL as I am in English, as well as a couple of other languages you speak.”

“I’ve never had a Dom offer me that before.” Clint murmured, scrutinising Phil’s face as he drove.

“What? Speak sign with you?” Phil asked, glancing at Clint.

“No. Well they’ve never done that either, but I mean, offer to give me what I need. Not just take what they want.”

Phil’s hands gripped the wheel tighter, if he didn’t happen to know that all of Clint’s previous ‘masters’ were dead he would be demanding names. “I’m sorry to hear that Clint, you deserve to be cared for.”

“Can I ask you a question Sir?”

“Of course.”

“What do you get out of being a Dom, if you don’t take for your pleasure, if you just care for the sub?”

Coulson’s eyes flickered to Clint to read his openly curious expression. “The pleasure of being a Dom, at least the way I was brought up is in helping the sub. Nothing brings a Dom greater happiness than having a safe and happy sub by their side. That doesn’t mean we don’t enjoy other forms of pleasure, just that they aren’t as necessary as having a healthy, happy sub.”

“Oh. Okay.” Clint thought for a moment. “So if the Sub you were caring for hated sex, then you wouldn’t mind not having it?”

Coulson chuckled, “That’s right Clint.”

“Would you ever punish a Sub?”

“That would depend on the sub, and what they had done. I would never allow a sub to drop the way you did today as punishment. Sub drop is too dangerous to mess with.”

“It’s not normal for a sub to drop after punishment?” 

“No, Clint. The Dom is supposed to provide aftercare- tend to any injuries, cuddle the sub until they come out of subspace, that type of thing. How many times have you dropped since you started working with Jenkins?” Coulson demanded, a dread settling through him as he remembered the files of mission reports stating Clint had been punished upon returning to the safe house.

“A few.” Clint gave a non-answer and looked out of the window.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

Clint shrugged, “I don’t talk much in subspace.”

“Which begs my next question, why didn’t anyone notice? You have a reputation for being a loudmouth Barton.” 

“Guess they thought silence was a reaction to having no aids.” Clint mumbled, curling in on himself.

“Hey, I’m sorry.” Coulson said, reaching out to stroke Clint’s arm, “I shouldn’t be interrogating you while you’re in a drop. I’m sorry.”

“’snot your fault Sir.” Clint mumbled, leaning into the touch, “Would it be okay to take my hearing aids out now Sir?”

“Of course Clint, we’ll be there in a few minutes.” Clint nodded as he carefully switched his aids off and placed them back in their case. The rest of the drive passed in companionable silence, both lost in their thoughts.


	2. Chapter 2

Phil held a palm to the small of Clint’s back as he guided him into his apartment building, leading him into the elevator. Mrs Johnson from number seventy two held the door for them. “Ooh Phil, have you finally got yourself a sub?” 

Phil rolled his eyes at his neighbour, “Clint’s just a friend, he’s had quite a traumatic experience. I’m just helping him ‘til he’s over the sub drop.”

“Oh, how sweet of you Philip.” Mrs Johnson gushed, then held her hand out to Clint, “Good evening Clint, I’m Mrs Johnson, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Oh, he’s deaf, hold on,” Phil apologized, signing to Clint, ‘this is my neighbour, Mrs Johnson, say hello for me?” 

Clint blushed and gave her a small wave, leaning into Phil’s shoulder. “Oh, he’s adorable Phil. What happened to the poor dear, did it cause his hearing loss?”

“Oh no, he’s been deaf all his life. I think the best description I can give is that he just got out of an abusive relationship.” Phil told her quietly.

“Oh the poor dear,” Mrs Johnsons hands fluttered as though she wanted to pull Clint into a hug, but he retreated half a step. The elevator stopped and the three of them stepped out, “You take good care of that boy Phillip.” She ordered as they opened their respective doors.

“Don’t worry Mrs Johnson, that bastard who hurt him will never see the light of day once I’m through with him.”

“Good,” She gave a sharp nod then entered her apartment and shut the door. Phil felt quite bemused as he ushered Clint over the threshold, she’d been around the kid for all of two minutes, and already she was besotted, that woman took three years to warm up to him. Three years of cold glaring in the elevator, until one day she’d asked him to watch her granddaughter while visiting her son in hospital. Ever since she had been inviting him for tea and cakes if ever she saw him and thought he needed a pick me up. 

Phil showed Clint to the guest room, ‘this is where you’ll be sleeping Clint,’ he looked around carefully and placed his bag at the foot of the bed, then Phil showed him to the bathroom adjoining the master bedroom, ‘why don’t you take a shower, I’ll order the pizza, should be here by the time you’re done.’ Clint nodded and accepted the clean towel he was handed.

Phil went back to his bedroom, dialled the familiar number for the pizza delivery, then changed into sweats and a loose t-shirt. Heading back into the living room he pottered about cleaning here and there, setting the coffee pot, throwing out the few rotten vegetables in the fridge, he’d had every intention of eating when he had bought them, before settling on the couch to wait for Clint. 

The kid hovered uncertainly in the doorway, his hands twisting in the fabric of his hoodie. ‘C’mere Little Bird.’ Clint slid to his knees and crawled to his side, ‘You okay?”

‘Yes Sir.’ Clint tilted his head into the touch of Phil’s hand as he cupped his cheek briefly.

‘Want to watch T.V while we wait for dinner?’ Clint smiled and nodded, ‘Up here then.’ Clint clambered up onto the sofa, sitting a respectable distance away as Phil flicked channels ‘til he reached an old Supernanny episode and added the subtitles for Clint. After ten minutes Clint slid a little closer. Phil smiled at him and opened his arms in an invitation the archer was too shy to ask for. He immediately cuddled into Phil’s side with a happy hum and let his eyes slide shut.

When the pizza arrived Clint opted to feed himself this time in order to avoid mess, then he cuddled up to Phil again without needing to be prompted. The evening was comfortable, Phil stroked a careful hand through Clint’s hair and down his back as the sub hummed happily. They got through three more episodes before Phil decided it was time for bed. He tapped the arm Clint had wound round him to get his attention. ‘Bed time Little Bird, we have to go to work in the morning.’

Clint clung closer for a minute before reluctantly releasing Coulson and getting to his feet. Phil lead him into his room and tucked him in, ‘If you need anything at all Clint, just come wake me up.’ With one final stroke through his hair, Phil went to his own room.

He lay awake thinking about the day. Thinking, despite the extra work, and the anger at Jenkins that had been simmering inside of him, he hadn’t felt this content in years. Was it really being finally allowed to utilise those long ignored Dom instincts? Or was it spending time with Clint himself that had him so relaxed? He drifted to sleep with memories of a sleepy Clint clinging to his side.

He was woken by the sound of his door creaking open, and sat up abruptly at the sight of the man lingering there. “Clint?”

“M’sorry Sir.” He mumbled, stumbling backwards.

“Clint, what’s wrong?”

He took a shaky breath, “I- I had a nightmare Sir. Please, I- I don’t want to be alone.” Phil watched as a tremor ran through the whole of Clint’s body.

He sighed and pulled back the corner of the quilt, scooting over to give Clint the warm spot. “Come here Little Bird.” Clint shuffled to his assigned side of the bed and let Phil swaddle him in the blanket before pulling him into an embrace, “It’s okay Clint, I’ve got you, you’re okay.”

“Thank you Sir.” Clint mumbled sleepily, taking his hearing aid out and placing it on the bedside cabinet. Phil just squeezed tighter to let him know he heard and they fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms.


	3. Chapter 3

“Hey Trouble,” Doctor Evans greeted Clint as he knocked on her door.

“Trouble?” He protested, hand over his heart in feigned dejection.

“Trouble, yes, you escape my care every time you’re here, without being released. Apart from yesterday, in which you spent hiding under the bed and refusing to let me treat you.” She rolled her eyes, “Where’s the Ice Man?”

“Coulson? That’s what they call him?” At the Doc’s nod he shrugged, “Had a meeting with Fury about something or someone, and that guy gives me the creeps, so he let me come down here.”

“I see, you only willingly see me, to get out of seeing the Director,” she said, ushering him to sit on the bed.

“You know I love you Doc, I just don’t love you prodding me.” Clint grinned as he sat and pulled his shirt off for her to inspect his back.

“Stop getting injured, then you won’t get prodded,” She grumbled, poking him in the side.

Clint chuckled, “I’ll get right on that Doc.”

“You seem a lot better today.” She commented.

Clint hummed, “I guess so, gotta be honest Doc, I don’t really remember much of it.”

“You weren’t even speaking yesterday morning,” She said as she pealed the soiled bandages from his skin, “I always thought it would be a nice change, when someone finally shut you up Barton, but it was horrible.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Clint winced as she dabbed ointment into the cuts left by Jenkins’s belt, “You know I didn’t even learn to talk till I was seven? Spent those years in relative silence till I got my first hearing aids at the orphanage. Think that’s why I go quiet in subspace, it’s like, I can’t quite remember how to speak.”

“I guess that makes sense.” She didn’t ask why his parents hadn’t gotten his hearing tested, she did his medical check during his intake, she had seen the x-rays that showed the years of healed breaks. “These should heal up in a few days; no gym until I tell you it’s okay.”

Clint sighed, “Yes Boss.”

“I mean it Clint, you’ll pull the stitches, and aside from that you’re still on the cusp of your drop, especially if you overexert yourself.” Clint sighed again, she smirked as she added, “And no range.”

“What?” He exploded, launching to his feet and spinning to face her, “Oh come on Evans, you can’t take the range off of me, please, I need it.”

“Calm down Barton. No range. You’ll pull your stitches.” Doctor Evans said in her ‘stern no nonsense’ tone.

“Please Doc, you can’t do this to me, please, I’ll do anything.”

She narrowed her eyes, glaring at the puppy dog eyes. She broke first. “Fine, half an hour a day. No longer, or I’m locking you on the ward for your own safety. And you have to have supervision so someone can pull you back if you start to drop again.”

“Half an hour? That’s it?” Clint whined.

“Keep whining Barton, see how far it gets you.” He stuck his bottom lip out and gave her the puppy dog eyes again, she shook her head at him, “Get out of my sight kiddo, I want to see you in the morning though.”

“Yes ma’am.” He saluted and scrambled into his shirt.

“Oh and Clint?”

“Yeah?” he asked, turning as he reached the door.

“Coulson is being good to you, isn’t he?”

Clint’s whole face softened at the mention of the man who had let him sleep in his bed the previous night, “Yeah Doc, he is.”

She nodded and gave him a warm smile, “Good, now get lost.” He chuckled, waving over his shoulder as he made his way up to Coulson’s office. 

He made it as far as the right floor before Jenkins called out to him. “Barton!” Clint froze automatically, waiting for him to catch up. “On your knees.”

Clint straightened up and met his gaze, “No.”

“Excuse me?” Jenkins asked, incredulous.

Clint choked down the instinct to apologize and follow orders and locked his jaw. “I said no, Sir.”

“Perhaps you miss heard me,” the older agent said quietly fury burning in his eyes as he stepped into Clint’s personal space, “I ordered you to get on your knees, now.” 

“And I said no, sir.” Clint held his ground. Jenkins held a hand to Clint’s throat and kicked the back of his knees, forcing Clint to the floor. He pulled his fist back and snapped it towards Clint’s face, but he ducked it easily and scrambled back to his feet.

“Oh you are in so much trouble Barton. Just wait until I get my hands on you!” Clint backed away from the man. He knew, logically, he was strong enough to fight Jenkins, but every stupid submissive bone in his body was screaming at him to do as he was ordered. He locked his knees and did his best to glare through the feeling of his heart hammering against his ribs.

“Do we have a problem here?” Agent Coulson’s voice was like cool water on a hot day.

“This Sub,” Jenkins spat, “Is refusing to follow my orders, again. He is refusing to get on his knees and he left headquarters last night without my authorisation.”

Coulson turned to Clint and touched his arm briefly, signing to him, ‘you okay?’ Clint gave him a quick nod and twitched his lips in a smile before Coulson turned back to Jenkins, “Agent Barton does not have to get on his knees for anyone in this organisation, unless the Director or his Dominant demands it. Since you are neither it is inappropriate of you to even ask.”

“The SHIELD manual states that I, as his Handler, am in charge of disciplinary action. He broke the rules.” Jenkins argued back.

“Agent Barton had permission from the Director himself to be off base last night. And for future reference, Agent Jenkins, all agents, whether they are Subs, Doms or Neutrals, are subject to the same disciplinary action. Would you have forced any other agent to remove their clothing, take away their senses and kneel as you beat them?” Coulson asked, the coldness of his eyes contrasting strangely with the pleasant tone of his voice. 

“Is that what he told you happened?” Jenkins growled, taking a step forward. Clint shrank behind Coulson.

“No, that is what four separate members of your team have told me. Agent Barton is no longer your responsibility Jenkins; if you approach him again I will have you sent to the brig. If you ever hit him again, well, the Director tells me there’s a lengthy operation in Alaska short of a few agents. I hear frostbite is quite painful.” Jenkins gaped as Coulson turned on his heel, gripped Clint’s elbow and walked them to his office.

Clint flopped down on the couch and blew out a long breath. “Thank you Sir. I was about ten seconds away from falling to my knees for that bastard.” 

“Clint, you know you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to here, right?” Barton looked up to meet Phil’s concerned gaze where he stood hovering in the middle of the room.

“I know Sir. I- I try. It’s not always easy. As a person, logically, I know I could kick Jenkins’s ass into next week. But, as a sub,” Clint shrugged, “Jenkins has been in control of my life for the last three months, ever since you brought me in. Its- I’m programmed to do what Doms tell me to, whether I want to or not.”

Phil recalled Clint’s submission score in his file, ninety seven, the highest he’d ever seen. The higher the score, the harder it became for the sub to ignore orders from doms. Phil hadn’t thought about it until that moment, but he found he was impressed with how well Barton could ignore stupid orders in the field. “Would it help if you had an actual Dom?” Phil asked, sitting at the other end of the couch.

He lifted one shoulder in half a shrug, “I think so, but I can only Sub for people I trust. And there’s only one person in my life that I trust, so…” He shrugged again, missing the blink of surprise on Phil’s face.

“Can I ask you a question Clint?” 

“You just did Sir,” Clint flashed him a brief grin, then his expression went sombre, “Sure.” 

“You went into sub drop yesterday, you were almost completely lost in your mind, but you still wouldn’t let anyone help. Why?”

“I didn’t even know most of the Doms they brought into that room Sir, I’ve been through a lot of shit in my life, I know you know that, you’ve read my file. Half of the things that happened to me were because I allowed a stranger to Dom me when I was in sub drop. I swore to myself I’d never do that again.”

“But you came out when I got there.” The ‘why’ was implicit in the statement.

Clint took a deep breath, “I trust you, Sir.”

“Why? I’ve barely seen you since I recruited you.”

Clint held Phil’s confused eyes with his own as he spoke. “Because you recruited me. You saved me from hell Coulson, you’ll never know how much. You were ordered to kill me, but you shot to incapacitate, in a place I would heal quickly. Then you spoke to me in my own language when you realised my hearing aids had broken. You have no idea how overwhelming that was; no Dom has ever made the effort to speak to me that way, not even my brother. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for that Sir, never. Then you brought me here, to a place where I can sleep without risk of hypothermia, and am given three square meals a day. For the first time in my life, I feel safe. You did that for me sir, whether I’ve seen you since or not.”

“I was just doing what I thought was right.” Phil murmured blankly, turning over the information Clint has just told him. And he had, he had seen the desperation in the subs eyes as he’d ran into that alley in the rain, every instinct- Dom or Agent- had told him to wrap the kid in a blanket and care for him.

“I know,” Clint said, looking down at his hands as he twisted them in his lap, “I know I’m nothing special, just an ex-Carney school drop-out. You’d probably have done the same for anyone else in my position at the time. That’s just who you are. I’m not asking you for anything, just, I want you to know that I trust you, and I’ll do anything you ask of me. Not many people in my life have ever shown me the compassion you have, I know that you were just doing your job, but it means a lot to me anyway. So, thank you, Sir.”

Phil didn’t know what to say to that, he only knew that Clint deserved so much better than the lot he’d been given in life. “You are special Clint.” He pulled the ‘yeah, right’ expression he’d pulled the day before after being told he wasn’t bad. “You are Clint. Look at all the shit you’ve been through, I know the stuff in your file isn’t the half of it, but you keep getting back up, standing for what you believe in. You don’t let your submissiveness rule who you are, you are strong, you fight against those instincts in order to do what you know is right. I know that can’t be easy. I think you are the definition of strong.” Clint just shrugged, and Phil sighed. “You said you trusted me.”

Clint’s head snapped up, “I do.”

“Then why don’t you trust me when I tell you you’re special?” 

Clint frowned, “I- that’s not-”

“I’m your new handler Clint. Trust me when I say I will never lie to you. I might omit certain information on a need to know basis, but I will never lie.”

Clint’s eyes lit up at this information, “You’re my new handler?”

“Yes, the Director has asked me to form a small strike team with our best sniper.” Clint grinned. “Now, what did Doctor Evans say to you?”

Clint scrunched his nose up, “She won’t let me into the gym, she said I’m still in the back end of sub drop and my emotions are too wild. But she said she was surprised how fast I came out of it,” he bit his lip, “she said it was the worst case she’d seen in a long time- what does that mean Sir?”

Phil patted Clint’s knee and smiled gently, “Only that you were stuck in your head father than she’s seen before. But you pulled out of it fairly quickly when I arrived. Jenkins shouldn’t have left you in that corner for so long.”

“As punishments go sir, it’s not the worst I’ve ever endured.” 

Phil swallowed the bile rising in his throat as he realised it probably didn’t even scrape the surface. The image of the sweet, downed Clint resting his head in Phil’s lap swam to the forefront of his mind and he was suddenly crushed with the possessive need to protect him. “Regardless,” he bit out, “It was a punishment you never should have been given.”

“Sir?” Confusion flickered through Clint’s eyes, followed by a slither of fear as he caught the angry note in Coulson’s voice.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. You were catatonic when they brought you in, just because Jenkins had some kind of grudge against you.” Phil growled.

“Hey, I’m fine, look at me,” He did, hesitantly. Clint didn’t know why Coulson even cared, must be his thing for looking out for his assents, “I’m fine, few more days and you’ll never even know I dropped. If you let me back on the range, it’ll be sooner.”

Phil made an effort to rein in the anger, “I’m sorry. If Jenkins does come anywhere near you again Clint, I want you to come tell me, okay? He doesn’t get to hurt you anymore.”

“Yes, Sir.” Clint nodded.

“Good. Now, what did Evans say about range time?”

“She said I could have half an hour a day ‘til she cleared me, as long as I have supervision in case I drop again.” Clint grumbled.

“You begged her for that much, didn’t you?” Phil asked, amused.

“What? No-” Phil raised an eyebrow and Clint huffed, “Okay, so yeah. Is there anyone that can supervise me?”

“Come on,” Phil said, getting to his feet, “As your new handler, I need to see your abilities in action when you’re not aiming that damn bow in my face.”

Clint bounced up and grinned, “Thanks Sir.”

The range was mostly empty when they arrived, the range master handed over Clint’s bow with the warning that he’d face Doctor Evans’ wrath if he stayed a minute longer than she’d cleared him. Clint pouted, but nodded his affirmative. He all but skipped to the specialised archery lane.

“Alright Agent,” Coulson crossed his arms, “Impress me.”

Clint grinned at the challenge. He notched an arrow and ran his fingers through the fletching as he took a deep breath. “Got your stop watch Sir?”

“On my count Clint.” Coulson waited for the second hand to twitch back to twelve, “three, two, one.” Clint loosed his arrow and it flew straight into the bullseye, he didn’t even wait for the dull thud that signalled it hitting the target before notching and releasing the next arrow. He’d emptied the quiver in six minutes, all the arrows in clusters around the centre of the three small targets.

Phil blew out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Impressed despite himself. “Could you do that blindfolded,” He wondered aloud as Clint went to retrieve the arrows. Clint’s laughter made Phil feel lighter.

“I used to do it blindfolded and riding a horse in the circus sir, this is nothing.” He refilled the quiver and started shooting again, slower this time, allowing the familiar pattern of notch, draw and release to calm his racing pulse.

Coulson checked his watch again, “Two minutes left Barton.”

He released his final arrow and turned to Coulson with pleading eyes that reminded Phil strangely of the puppy he’d owned as a child. “Please Sir, just five more minutes.” He fluttered his eyelashes.

Coulson’s eyes crinkled in the way that showed he was trying not to laugh, “Oh no Barton, I’m not facing the wrath of Doctor Evans so you can play for five more minutes. Go collect your stuff.”

Clint pouted again, but did as he was told. Replacing his arrows in the quiver and unstringing his bow.

“What’re we doing now, Sir?” Barton asked as he handed his equipment back to the range master.

“Well, I need your report for the last mission.” Clint’s nose wrinkled at that, “I know Clint but we need the evidence against Jenkins, your teammate’s word won’t count for as much as yours in this situation.”

“Yes Sir.” 

“C’mon, let’s grab lunch from the mess first.” Clint brightened again. Phil was quickly learning that the way to Clint’s heart was through his stomach.


	4. Chapter 4

Coulson handed Clint a blank after action report and went to sit behind his desk, loading his laptop up to check his emails. Clint hesitated in the middle of the room and Phil glanced up frowning, “what’s the problem, Barton?”

Clint scratched the back of his neck and flushed, “Can I- I mean, could I-” he indicated the floor by Phil’s feet.

Phil smiled at him kindly, “Of course you can Clint.” His shoulders drooped as he moved to kneel by Coulson’s side. “I’m sorry, you’ve been behaving so normally all day, but you must still be all over the place from that drop.”

Phil apologized, feeling guilty as he ran a hand over Clint’s hair, “S’not your fault Sir. I’ve been hiding my emotions for too long. Never really had anyone to help me before.” Clint relaxed into the contact and started his report.

When he had finished his report Clint slid it onto Coulson’s desk, and at the man’s nod he settled himself back against his thigh and closed his eyes, losing himself in the woodsy scent that was quickly becoming his favourite.

They were interrupted midway through the afternoon by Sitwell knocking on the door. “Hey Coulson,” He glanced at Clint kneeling on the floor, “I got that thing you asked me to do yesterday.”

“Take a seat, Sitwell.” Coulson said, “Barton, why don’t you go grab us some coffee from the mess?”

“Yes Sir.” 

“Good Boy.” Clint flashed him a smile as he left.

“It suits you, you know,” Jasper said as he watched the sub leave.

“What does?”

“Having a sub to look after.” He dropped the results of his investigation onto Phil’s desk.

“He’s not my sub.” Phil protested, picking up the folder.

“He could be. If you asked him.” He smirked at Phil’s raised eyebrow, “C’mon Phil, Hawkeye doesn’t let anyone see him that vulnerable,” he nodded at the spot on the floor Clint had just vacated.

“He hasn’t had a lot of choice, the last few days.”

“Of course he has. If he didn’t trust you, didn’t like you, he never would have crawled out from under the bed.” 

Phil tilted his head as he thought, “Maybe, Jas, but this isn’t about me. Barton needs someone who can care for him; I work too much to give him that.”

“You deserve to be happy too, Phil. If the kid wants that, if you want that, then why not give it a shot?” Jasper prodded gently.

Phil just sighed and put his Agent Coulson mask back on, “Report, agent.”

Jasper rolled his eyes at his friend, “Far as I can tell, had Agent Barton been a dominant, or a neutral Jenkins would’ve listened to his expertise in the field. Recommend he attend an equal rights seminar.”

“You think that will help anything?” Coulson demanded.

“It can’t hurt,” Jasper shrugged, “Every report I’ve read shows that Jenkins is actually a fairly decent handler, he listens to his people, makes sure no one gets left behind. He either has something against Barton, or subs in general.”

“Okay,” Phil sighed, “I’ve taken over as Barton’s handler for now anyway. We’ll send Jenkins to the seminar, but I want him under surveillance for the next few weeks.”

“Sure.” Jasper agreed as the door opened again and Clint came in with three coffees. “Thanks.” Jasper smiled as he took one from the archer and watched with a knowing look as he knelt back on the floor with his own mug. “How’re you feeling Barton? You were pretty out of it yesterday.”

Clint glanced up at Phil and at his infinitesimal nod he spoke, “A lot better, thank you Sir.”

“Good, I’m glad.” Sitwell stood up, “Do you need anything else Coulson?” 

“No, thank you Sitwell.” Phil gave him his bland agent smile, and Jasper rolled his eyes. “See you tomorrow then.” He waved as he left.

Coulson went back to his paperwork organizing some op in Beirut Fury seemed to think was important, turning over his conversation with Jasper in his mind. It’s true that he does feel happier with the sub around, but it would be unfair to use his position of authority over the sub to force him into a relationship. He would have to wait for the sub to recover, if Clint wanted what it seemed he wanted, he would come to Phil in his own time. 

As time went on Clint began to fidget, breaking Coulson’s concentration. He sighed and put down his pen, “What’s wrong, Little Bird?”

Clint glanced up at his new handler, then back at his hands, “Am I coming home with you again tonight?”

“Do you want to, Clint?” Phil asked gently.

“Yes, Sir.” Clint said quietly.

“Then yes, you can come home with me.” 

The sub nodded slowly, “What happens when the doc clears me from sub drop.”

“What do you mean?”

Clint took a deep breath, “Will I have to go back to my quarters?”

“Well, yes, Clint.” The sub blew out the breath and nodded pain clear in his eyes as he wrapped his arms around himself. He knew Coulson wouldn’t want him, but it still hurt to hear.

Phil’s heart clenched at the sight of his pain. “Tell me what you need, Clint.”

He shook his head, “s’okay sir, I know you’re just looking after me because I’m your asset. You don’t have to take me home. I’ll be okay.”

“Clint?” Phil waited for Clint to look up. “Do you want to come home with me?” he asked again.

The sub bit his lip, “Not if you don’t want me there, Sir.”

Phil nodded, then got out of his chair and crouched so he was face to face with him, “Are you saying that you want to be my sub, Clint?”

“Yes Sir.” Clint mumbled, then looked away, “I mean I know you don’t want me, and I promised I wouldn’t ask anything from you, so I’m not. I just, I care about you Sir. And I feel safer, happier when I’m with you. And you are kinda hot.” He blushed at that admission, but still didn’t look up.

“I never asked you not to ask me for things Clint.” Phil reached out to cup the subs cheek. “I’m not just looking after you because you’re an asset Clint. I care about you too. I’ve never been happier doing paperwork than these last two days with you by my side, and I liked having you share my bed.” Clint met his eyes again, wonder spreading across his face. “But I don’t want to take advantage of you. You told me yesterday that most of your past mistakes were because you chose a Dom when you were down. I will help you through the rest of this drop, but then I want you to take a few days to think about this. If you still want to be my sub at the end of next week, we’ll discuss it again. Does that sound fair to you?”

“Yes Sir,” Clint smiled, then threw his arms around Phil unexpectedly. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around Clint. “Thank you Sir.”

“You’re welcome Clint. Now, if you’re bored, why don’t you go fetch some more of your clothes from your quarters, you’re staying with me till the doc clears you.” 

Clint bounced to his feet, “I wasn’t bored Sir, I just, get lost in my head sometimes. Need someone to pull me out of it.” 

Phil nodded as he sat back in his chair, “How did you used to cope, Clint?” He asked curiously.

Clint gave him a wry smile, “I used to hide in the air vents above your office Sir.”

Phil blinked, “Really?”

“I told you Sir, I feel safe when I’m with you, even if it’s only your voice I can hear.” He grinned and left before Phil could respond. He knew he should be angry that Clint hid in the air vents, but really he just felt a warm glow spreading through him, it gave him hope that Clint really would come back to him, and ask to be his sub once again, when his drop was over.


	5. Chapter 5

“Can I cook for you, Sir?” Clint asked as he climbed into Phil’s car that evening.

Phil looked at him, surprise colouring his voice as he asked, “You want to cook for me?”

Clint blushed and looked at his hands, “Yeah, I mean, I like cooking. If I can’t use the range I usually cook to clear my head. And you said you weren’t much of a cook, so…” he shrugged.

Phil smiled, “If you truly want to cook for me Clint, I would love to try it.”

Clint grinned.

…

Phil sat at the breakfast bar as he watched Clint whirl around his kitchen. He threw himself into cooking the same way he threw himself into training, with enthusiasm and abandon. He didn’t measure anything, just threw all the ingredients into various pots on the hob, tasting as he seasoned. “Where did you learn to cook?”

“In the Circus. When I first joined, I was too small to do any of the heavy lifting, I used to feed the animals and then I’d be in the food tent cooking all day. Not that they actually let me eat any of it.” Phil smiled sadly, “what about you, how come Agent Ice Man doesn’t know how to cook?”

“Ice man?” Phil chuckled.

Clint shrugged, “That’s what the other baby agents call you, according to Doctor Evans, though I’ve never seen it myself. You’ve always been kind to me.”

“I shot you in the leg.” 

Clint shrugged again, “Could have been my head.”

“True.” Phil agreed, “And in answer to your question, I never really tried to learn. My mother is an excellent cook but her kitchen is her sanctuary. The only thing in that room anyone, including my father, is allowed to touch is the coffee machine. When I left school I went straight into the army. They fed me in the mess. Then I came to SHIELD, where they feed me in the mess, or we eat MRI’s in the field. I tend to order take out the nights I’m home. Or make sandwiches, I can just about manage that.”

Clint smiled, “Your Mom sounds like quite a character.”

“Oh she is. She’d like you, you’re a good eater. She always said you can tell a lot about a person by the way they eat.”

“What about your father?” Clint asked, plating up their food and bringing it over to the table. “Dig in.”

“He’s the quiet one. Mom never really bossed him around, but he always seemed to know what she wanted, he was always finding small ways to please her.”

“They sound like good people.” Clint noted as he took his own seat.

“They are.” Phil agreed, taking a bite of chicken. His eyes widened as he chewed, “This is amazing Clint.”

The sub blushed, “Thank you, Sir.”

They passed the rest of the meal in easy conversation, learning the more personal details about each other that they couldn’t find in their files. Clint learned that Phil had two younger sisters, both of them married, along with three nephews and two nieces who he doted upon.

They moved to the couch and Phil pulled Clint against him before the sub could even ask. Clint snuggled happily into his arms. 

The next few days passed in a similar manner. Clint would visit medical while Coulson met with Fury. Evans would lecture him about his wounds which were gradually healing, assess his drop levels, which were gradually reaching baseline. Then they would argue about range time and gym time, which the doc would eventually agree to more of under the condition he had supervision. Clint would bounce to Coulson’s office to tell him the good news, then disappear to the gym for an hour under the watchful eye of Agent Sitwell, who Clint had decided to like. Followed by an hour of range time which Coulson would meet him for in order to supervise. The more Clint pulled out of the drop, the more he began to think that Coulson was just ogling his arms. They then had lunch in Coulson’s office and Clint would kneel on the floor and rest his head against Phil’s thigh, Phil carding his hand through his hair as he completed his paperwork for the day. They would then go back to the apartment, chatting easily as Phil watched Clint cook, before they’d cuddle on the sofa watching Supernanny and Hoarders.

On Friday morning Clint made his way down to Medical. “Mornin’ Doc.”

“You seem chipper today Barton.” Clint shrugged as he hopped up onto the bed and removed his shirt. She pulled his bandages off gently and inspected his cuts. “These seem fine now Clint. You can go back to the gym and the range as normal, just try not to overdo it, okay?”

“Yes ma’am.” He agreed, pulling his shirt on again.

“So,” she asked, breezing around to face him again, “How are you feeling today?”

He grinned at her, “Better than ever Doc.”

She smiled, “Good. No more mood swings? Feeling lonely? Touch starved?”

“Not since Wednesday Doc.” 

“Good, then I’ll clear you for fieldwork too.” Clint’s smile faltered a little.

“What’s wrong Barton?”

“Hmm, oh nothing, I’m fine.”

“Good, now get out of here Squirt. I don’t want to see you for a good long time, you here?” 

“Yes ma’am,” He threw her a careless salute and headed up to Coulson’s office.

Phil looked up from his laptop as Clint entered the room and smiled warmly at him, “Hey you, what’s the verdict?”

Clint dropped his clearance papers on his desk, “Cleared for all duty, Sir.”

“Good.” Phil nodded.

Clint took a seat on the sofa and looked at his hands, “Yeah.”

“Clint, what’s wrong?”

“I have to stay in my quarters tonight, don’t I?” He glanced up at his Handler.

“Ah, that. Yes Clint. I meant what I said, the other day. It would make me very happy indeed, if you do want to be my sub, but I want you to be sure of your decision-”

“I am Sir.” Clint said earnestly, but Phil held up a hand to stop him.

“Listen to me Clint. I want you to take the weekend to think about it. Go about whatever normal routine it is that you have. If on Monday morning you still want to give this a shot, come and tell me. If you don’t, then I promise you, I will not treat you any differently to any other agents under my command because of your submissiveness, or anything else that has occurred between us over the past week. I need you to know that your decision will have no impact on your career.” He held Clint’s gaze to be sure he understood.

“Yes Sir.”

“Good. Now go on, I know you’re itching to get back in the gym, I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Yes Sir.” Clint agreed, rising to his feet. Phil sighed as he watched the sub he had grown to care for walk out of his office. Despite his words, he knew it would be impossible to change his feelings towards the sub now that they had taken root in his heart. His life was about to become incredibly difficult if the archer did change his mind after all.


	6. Chapter 6

Clint spent the next three days alternating between the gym, the range, the mess and staring at the ceiling of his sparse quarters. He was finding it impossible to sleep without the warm body he’d been cuddling for the past week. He’d never wished for Monday morning more than he did as that weekend dragged by.

…

Phil spent the next three days clearing out space in his apartment, in the hopes that Clint would come back to him and filling out the endless amounts of paperwork that being Fury’s right hand man generated. Jasper and Maria dragged him to a bar on Saturday night.

“What’s up Phil?” Maria asked and she slid a beer into his hand.

“Oh, he’s just pining.” Jasper said lightly.

“I’m not pining!” Phil protested, and Jasper smirked.

“Yeah, no, sorry I forgot. The Ice Man doesn’t have feelings, so he couldn’t possibly be pining.” Phil glared at his friend.

“Sorry, what’ve I missed? Who or what is Phil ‘not’ pining over?” Maria demanded.

“Did you not hear? He’s been fostering a sub all week. Told him to go home and think about it over the weekend before he came back on Monday to decide if he wanted to be Phil’s sub or not.”

“Aw Phil, you finally got a sub?” Maria swooned, “It’s about damn time.”

“You can talk Maria, you don’t have one either. And he isn’t mine yet.” Phil took a swig from his glass to give him an excuse to stop talking.

Maria scoffed, “Oh please, I don’t have the temperament to look after a sub long time Phil, you’re the romantic one. And Sitwell here is already shacked up. C’mon who’s the lucky boy?”

“It’s Hawkeye.” Jasper interceded.

Maria gaped. “Hawkeye? Clint Barton?” she demanded, at Phil’s nod she murmured, “I didn’t even know he was a sub.”

“Not many people do, Maria, we were trying to keep it that way.” Phil responded.

“We?”

“The Director and I felt it was in Barton’s best interest when we recruited him to keep the information on a need to know basis. Only other people who knew were the medics, his handler and a few members of the teams he was on. Barton already hid it so well, we didn’t feel the need to discourage that trait. But his handler, Jenkins, abused his authority over Barton, he punished him in a way he didn’t deserve. When he came back to base he hit a sub drop so hard the doctor wasn’t sure he’d pull out of it.”

“So where did you come in?”

“Doctor Evans tried every emergency Dom who was available, but the kid wouldn’t respond to any of them. She called the Director and asked him to send a Dom Clint was most likely to trust down to medical. I managed to get him stabilized enough for the Doctor to check his wounds-”

“Wait, wasn’t it you who recruited Hawkeye? Didn’t you shoot him in the leg?” Maria demanded.

Phil ran a hand over his face, “Yes, and don’t ask, I don’t get it either. I asked him about it, but he just told me he trusted me. Anyway, I’ve been pulling him out of the drop all week, he stayed in my guest room, but the doc cleared him yesterday.” 

“Don’t worry Phil, Clint’s crazy about you. He wouldn’t have gone back to his quarters at all if you hadn’t forced him to.” Jasper said, patting him on the arm. “You watch, he’ll be camped out on you doorstep come Monday morning.”

“What if he isn’t?” Phil asked quietly.

“Hey, if Barton willingly submitted to you for an entire week, after hiding the fact that he is a sub from everyone for years, then he must really like you Phil.” Maria said, “I don’t know him very well, but I do know he’d never do anything he didn’t want to do.”

They moved on to lighter topics and Phil couldn’t help but wish for Monday to be over already, so he could go and bandage his wounded heart in peace when Clint inevitably didn’t show.


	7. Chapter 7

Clint dressed in his least torn uniform and combed his hair on Monday morning. He then grabbed one of the seven boxes of cookies he’d baked that weekend and made his way to Phil’s office via the air vents. It was 7.30, way too early for Coulson to be there, but he was getting edgy in his quarters. He lowered himself through the ceiling, grabbed a cushion from the couch and knelt in the perfect submissive pose in the centre of the office, head bowed, hands loosely crossed behind his back. He left the cookies in front of him, closed his eyes, and waited.

An hour and a half later the lock clicked behind him and he fought not to tense up. Coulson said he wanted this too. He did. All Clint had to do was ask.

Phil gasped as he caught sight of the sub in the middle of his office. He was so beautiful, his head bowed in submission. “Hello Clint. Have you thought about what we discussed?” He fought to keep his voice even, tightly controlling the emotions rolling around inside of him. He stepped around so he was facing Clint.

The sub kept his head bowed. “Yes Sir. Please sir; I would very much like it if you would take me as your submissive.”

Phil placed a possessive hand on the back of Clint’s neck, where the strap of his collar would be if Clint ever consented to wear one. “It would be my honour, Clint.”

The sub looked up to meet his eyes, his smile was blinding. “Thank you Sir.” He said earnestly, and Phil couldn’t resist pulling him in for a kiss. Clint gave himself over to Phil, allowing him to explore his mouth with his tongue and Clint groaned happily. 

When Phil pulled back he stumbled over a box in the middle of the floor. “Are those cookies?” He asked, bending to pick them up.

“Oh, um, yeah.” Clint bit his lip, “The range master locked me out. There’s about six other boxes in my quarters.”

Phil chuckled as he opened the box to test them out, “These are really good. But it sounds to me as though we’re going to have to make some rules about your range time.”

“Yes Sir.” Clint grumbled.

“We’ll write up our contract tonight.” Clint grinned and Phil rolled his eyes, “Meanwhile, the Director has asked me to bring you up to date on some new training programs,” he handed him a manual, “you’re flight school training starts at two pm in the simulation room.”

“I’m learning to fly?” Excitement flashed across the subs face.

“Well what use is a hawk with no wings?” Coulson asked.

“None at all.” Clint agreed.

“Go on Clint, do your gym and range time, then start working on that training. Be back here at seven, okay?”

“Yes Sir.” Clint bounced to his feet, then paused by the door. “Oh, um, Sir? Do you happen to know what I could do with the six extra boxes of cookies?”

Phil laughed, it was like music to Clint’s ears. “Bring them up here Barton, I know some people with a sweet tooth.”

“Yes Sir.” Clint smiled and left.

…

Phil stopped by Sitwell’s office on the way to the mess for lunch and placed a box of cookies on his desk.

“What’s this for Phil?” He asked, inspecting the contents.

Phil smiled ruefully, “Apparently Clint spent the weekend baking. He made seven boxes of those.”

Jasper took a bite and groaned, “Oh my God that kid can bake.” He swallowed noisily, then stowed the box beneath his desk possessively. “So, are you now the proud Dom of the infamous Hawkeye, or did he bake you cookies to apologize?”

Phil grinned, “He was kneeling in the middle of my office when I unlocked the door this morning. He asked me to be his dom.”

“That’s great Phil, I told you that he was head over heels. I’m really happy for you man.”

“Thanks Jas.”

“No problem, and don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. Although you’d better tell Fury and Hill, I cannot withstand their glaring.”

“Don’t worry; I’ll bribe them with cookies too.” 

…

Maria smiled, congratulated him, and demanded he bring her more cookies if Clint ever cooked again. She also swore herself to secrecy without Phil even asking.

…

Fury folded his hands together over his desk. “You are aware of our fraternization policies, are you not, Agent?” He demanded.

Phil met his stony glare, “We don’t have any fraternization policies Sir.”

Fury narrowed his eye and glared in silence for another long minute before breaking out into a grin. “Congratulations Cheese, it’s about damn time you settled down.”

“Gee, thanks Marcus.” Phil relaxed as his oldest friend replaced the Director of SHIELD.

“Are you sure about this kid Phil?” He asked.

“Positive, I’ve never been more relaxed than this past week I spent with him. The weekend was torture, not being able to see him.”

Nick nodded thoughtfully as Phil placed a box on his desk, “What’s this?” he asked, surprised.

Phil grinned, “Cookies.”

“Is this some kind of bribe, agent?” Nick asked as he bit into one, his eyes went wide.

“Would it work if it was one?” Phil asked innocently.

“Maybe,” Nick agreed grudgingly, “where the hell did you get these things Phil, they’re amazing.”

“Apparently Clint spent the weekend baking, Sir.”

“Coulson,” Nick said, pointing a half-eaten cookie at him, “Marry that boy.”

Phil chuckled, “it might be a bit soon for that Marcus.” 

The Director shrugged, “get out of here Coulson. I know you have a new agent to wrangle.”

“Yes Sir.” Phil threw him a two fingered solute, the one that said they were joking as friends, not the agent and director.


	8. Chapter 8

Clint was a bundle of nerves as he knocked on Coulson’s office door at seven o’clock that night. At the quiet “Come in” he took a deep breath and entered.

Phil gave him a warm smile, “Hey Clint, you’re just on time. Let me just grab my stuff.”

“Of course Sir,” Clint said, relaxing in his Dom’s presence, his Dom, he had a Dom. 

Clint grinned and Phil’s eyes crinkled in response, “What are you smiling at?” He asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“I was just thinking that you were my Dom Sir.” Phil’s eyes went dark in an expression Clint hadn’t seen before. He stepped right into Clint’s personal space, placed a hand gently over his throat and spoke in a low rumble, “and you are my sub.” 

A hint of arousal trembled through Clint at the possessive tone. “Yes Sir,” Clint agreed on a whisper, “Only yours.”

Phil stroked a hand down Clint’s flank to cup his growing arousal; he leaned in and brushed a ghost of a kiss over the subs lips before releasing him completely and stepping back. Clint whined at the loss of contact and tried to follow. Coulson chuckled, “think we might have some training to do, don’t you Little Bird?”

“Yes Sir,” Clint agreed, if a little breathlessly.

“C’mon, let’s go home.” Clint liked the sound of that. He quickly readjusted himself to hide his half hard dick in his uniform before following Coulson out of the office.

Dinner that night was a quiet affair, both of them lost in thought of what the contract they were about to forge would read like. After they had both picked their way through enough pizza to deem that they had eaten at least half a meal each Coulson cleared the table and brought back a few sheets of paper.

“Okay Clint. First of all there are a few things I need you to know. I am a very possessive Dom, this will not be a casual thing. If we do this, I will be yours, just as much as you will be mine. I will not tolerate any dating outside of the relationship, is that clear?”

“Yes sir, I don’t want to date outside of you anyhow.” Clint told him earnestly.

Phil nodded, “Good. If at any point you decide you no longer wish to be in a relationship with me, I need you to promise you’ll tell me. I told you on Friday that our relationship will not affect our work, if we ever do break up, I promise it will not affect your career, is that clear.”

“Yes sir, thank you sir.”

“Okay, so I’ll tell you the rules I expect you to abide by as my Sub. If any of these are a hard no for you, I need you to tell me. First, at work you will address me as Agent Coulson, or Sir and I will call you Agent Barton or Hawkeye, at home you may call me Phil, or Sir.” He paused to make sure Clint was listening, he nodded to show that he was, “good. Second, do not lie to me. If I ask you a question, I expect an honest answer. If I ask you to do something, I expect you to do it. If there is a valid reason as to why you don’t want to follow that order then discuss it with me. You will eat three square meals a day. You will only train, in the gym or on the range, for the set amount of time allocated to you, as your handler I can see those times, I will know if you go over. I don’t want you to overwork yourself when we are not on a mission. I only ask these things of you Clint, because as your Dom it is my job to look after you, understand?” Clint nodded again, “And lastly,” Phil’s eyes darkened again, “You do not come without my permission. You don’t even touch your dick unless you’re washing or pissing.” Clint gulped at his expression, the arousal from earlier curling in his belly. “Are all of these terms agreeable to you Clint?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Good. Now, if you were to break any of these rules, what do you think your punishment should be?”

Clint gulped, “is that not up to you Sir?”

“Well it is, Clint, but I don’t want to break any of your hard limits, even if you do break my rules. So how can I punish you, without hurting you?”

Clint thought for a moment, “Well, Jenkins did get one thing right, I really hate corner time.” 

Phil shook his head, “No Clint, you went into sub drop after that.”

“Corner time I can handle, Sir, I don’t like it, it makes my skin itch not to be able to see the exits. As long as you don’t take my hearing aids then it’s just uncomfortable, not unbearable,” Clint explained.

“Okay, what else, how do you feel about spanking?”

Clint half shrugged, “that works too.”

“Bondage?”

“Fine as long as you don’t leave the room for too long.”

“Whips?”

“Fine, floggers and paddles too, just no belts.”

“Sensory deprivation?”

“Gags are fine, though you won’t need them when I’m down. Blindfolds and taking my hearing aids help me to calm down when I’m stressed, but only if you stay in contact with me the whole time. They help me go down too. Please don’t use it as punishment. You can use it in the bedroom too, but don’t leave the room. I wouldn’t feel safe if you left me in a room missing my senses.”

“Okay Clint. Do you have any hard limits, anything you really don’t want me to do?”

“Can you- not- Please, don’t humiliate me, don’t call me bad names. A-and don’t hit me.” 

Phil nodded seriously. “Anything else I should know?”

“I really like cuddling with you, and sleeping with you. I liked it when you kissed me, too.” Phil admired the colour of Clint’s cheeks as he blushed again. “And when you call me pet names, and praise me.”

“What’s your safe word?”

“Can we just stick with the traffic light system? I find it easier to remember.”

“Yes, of course. I need you to promise me Clint, that you will use your safe word if you need to. I won’t be angry with you. I won’t be disappointed. If we’re doing something you are uncomfortable with, then it stops immediately, okay.”

“I- yes sir.” Clint said, because somehow he knew. How did Phil know that his safe word had been ignored in the past?

“Good. Anything else?”

“Yeah, I tend to go quiet when I’m in subspace, it’s harder to communicate. I will be able to follow any direct order, but probably only respond in sign language… is that a problem?”

Phil scratched his chin, “will you still be able to use your safe words?”

Clint frowned, “I-I think so, but we’d have to test it. Maybe have hand signals or something, just in case.”

“Okay, we can do that.” Phil nodded. He then signed the bottom of the paper he’d been scribing and handed it over to Clint to sign, “This will do us for tonight, I’ll get a proper contract typed out with our terms tomorrow for us to sign, is that okay?”

“Yes Sir,” Clint said happily as he signed his own name.

“C’mon then, let’s see how quickly you go down.” Clint grinned and took Phil’s outstretched hand, allowing him to guide him to the couch. Phil placed a cushion on the floor and guided Clint to kneel on it, then sat with him between his legs. “Put your hands behind your back and close your eyes Clint.”

He did as he was told with only the briefest of hesitation. Phil smiled and brushed a hand into the subs hair. “You are so beautiful Clint. You have no idea how much.”

Clint let out a soft breath as Phil leaned in close and kissed him. Phil’s tongue slid inside Clint’s mouth and lazily explored, sweeping across his teeth and tangling with his tongue. The sub let out a moan which sent heat pooling to Phil’s groin. “I bet that mouth of yours would look even prettier stretched around my cock. What do you say we put that clever tongue of yours to good use?”

“Oh please Sir.” Clint begged breathlessly, “Please let me taste your cock, I can make it good for you, please.”

Phil chuckled, “Well, since you asked so nicely Baby Boy.” Phil fumbled with his belt and his fly and sighed in relief as his cock sprang free, he gave himself a few lazy strokes. “Keep your hands behind your back, if you need this to stop at any point, tap on my thigh, you understand?”

“Yes sir, please give me your cock sir, I want to please you.”

Phil tapped Clint’s bottom lip with the hand that had been cupping his cheek and ordered, “Open.” The sub immediately complied. Phil guided himself carefully into Clint’s mouth and then ordered, “Suck.” Clint closed his mouth with a happy hum and started sucking, wrapping his tongue around the shaft to caress the spots he instinctively knew would be sensitive. Phil groaned and gasped and when he was on the precipice he gasped “Stop.” Clint let him slide out with a pop, and tilted his head to the side curiously, still unable to see as his eyes were closed.

“You are amazing with your mouth Baby Boy, but that’s not how I want to come tonight.” Phil pulled his boy into a quick and needy kiss, “I want to come deep inside you Little Bird, I want to take you apart inside and out.” 

Clint shuddered a full body shiver and gasped, “Please.”

Phil smiled, knowing his boy had to have reached subspace to be speaking so little. “You can open your eyes, Sweetheart.” Phil stroked a hand through Clint’s hair and waited for his blinking eyes to focus. “I want you to strip naked and kneel by the bed, then wait for me.”

Clint’s hands came in front of him so that he could sign ‘Yes Sir’ before he shuffled and crawled into the bedroom. Phil watched him go, admiring the view. He then went to fill two glasses with water and slowly made his way to the bedroom. “You are such a good boy for me Clint. You’re waiting so beautifully, so patiently for me.” Phil placed the water on the bedside table, then ran a hand through Clint’s hair and down his bare back, leaning in to kiss the side of his neck. Clint shivered and mumbled, “Please.”

“Okay Little Bird, on your back in the middle of the bed.” Clint scrambled to comply and smiled with wide eyed pleasure as he watched Phil remove his own clothing, but for his boxers, then climb up onto the bed between Clint’s legs.

He kissed a line up Clint’s chest, his neck, his jaw until he claimed his lips once again. Kissing hot and demanding. He pushed Clint’s arms above his head and held them against the pillow. Clint went pliant beneath him. He made no sound but for soft gasps and moans as Phil sucked a bite into his neck, just below where his uniform collar stopped.

He reached into his bedside cabinet, fumbling for the lube. He coated his fingers with the cool gel and rubbed one against Clint’s entrance. His boy gasped as he slid one finger inside, and moaned as he slid in the second. Phil opened him up slowly, reverently, to be sure he wouldn’t hurt him. When he was sure he was ready he slid his fingers out. Clint whined at the loss, “I know Little Bird, don’t worry, I’m gonna fill you up so good.” Clint whined again and Phil leaned down, silencing him with a kiss as he shucked off his boxers. “Okay, are you ready Little Bird?” He grabbed Clint’s legs and moved into position as the sub nodded helplessly, watching with cloudy eyes. Phil smiled and slid inside in one smooth motion.

He set a slow rhythm enjoying the wanton gasping and moaning coming from beneath him. He slid a hand around Clint’s own shaft, matching the rhythm of his hips as he hit the subs prostate. “Come for me Clint.” He whispered, and Clint’s orgasm ripped through him, spurting both of their stomachs and chests. Phil stroked him through the aftershocks as he tipped over into his own orgasm. His vision whited out and he managed to collapse to the side of Clint to avoid crushing him. They lay side by side, breathing heavily for a moment.

“Wow, you’re amazing Clint.” Phil panted, pulling the sub against his chest. Clint snuggled against him, mumbling happily. They cuddled for a while before finally Phil had to shift Clint away, he groaned and clung on tighter. “I’ll be back in a minute, Clint, I need to find something to clean us up with.”

The sub pouted but let him go and Phil chuckled at the expression as he headed into the bathroom. He came back a moment later with a damp wash cloth and carefully cleaned the come and sweat from Clint’s body, and then his own. He then clambered up onto the bed and pulled the sub against his chest again. “Here Little Bird, drink some of this.” He offered the sub one of the glasses of water and helped him to drink.

He sent the glass back down after taking a few sips himself, then wrapped both arms back around his sub. “You are so brilliant Baby Boy. You did everything I asked of you, and everything I wanted without even needing to be told. You are so beautiful. I love the noises you make as you climax.”

“Thank you sir,” Clint mumbled sleepily, burying his face into Phil’s shoulder.

“Hey there.” Phil smiled. “Back with me?” He stroked a hand lightly through his subs hair and kissed his forehead. 

“Yes sir, you’re awesome.” He sighed and Phil chuckled.

“Okay Baby Boy, I think it’s time to get some sleep.” He pulled the quilt up over them and moved them so he was spooning Clint, wrapping an arm around his chest. Clint pushed himself as close as he could. “Want to take your hearing aids out?” Clint nodded but made no move to do so. Phil chuckled, and gently removed them for him, turning them off and placing them on the bedside table. He kissed the back of his neck before they both settled in to sleep.

…

Clint woke up smiling. He felt the warmth of Phil’s arms holding him close and snuggled into them happily. He felt the press of soft lips against his shoulder and hummed appreciatively. Warm hands roamed over his chest and Clint rolled over so he could face his Dom, who smiled warmly. Clint beamed and pressed his lips to Phil’s.

‘Good morning sweetheart.’ Phil signed.

‘Morning Boss.’ Clint’s eyes fluttered shut as Phil kissed him again. The alarm went off besides them and Phil ignored it. Fury could deal with it if he was a few minutes late for once in his life.


End file.
